Hatred and Regret!

There are certain confessions I should make before you proceed reading this story, as I don’t want you to derive any sort conclusions about me.

1. I love plants. I talk to my plants everyday and I believe that talking to the plants makes them healthier.
2. I love all animals apart from cats.
3. I think, more than 50% people are incurious and unaware OR   I have met 50% of the incurious and unaware population of the world. The remaining 50% I yet have to encounter. I’m convinced at 22 ,that the future is all about meeting these remaining 50%. No doubt , I never got the half-glass-filled theory.

(And now I think, I have made it worse. However, I bet there’s more to this. )

 Since childhood I was often asked if I hated anything.  My answer was always NO. People thought I was lying but I didn't care, as I knew that I actually did not hate anything.  I always thought of hatred as a very important feeling. In fact it is the most important feeling which is why one should not waste it on someone unworthy.

It was somewhere around September this year, no , not when Hatred struck me but when my mother suddenly developed some fondness over pigeons for reasons only known to her which I’m incapable of understanding.But this was nothing new to me. My mother is capable of doing anything. Leave her with a group of Americans and in an hour you would hear all of them singing Hindu devotional songs. So, I was happy thinking that the pigeons hadn't begun singing at least.

My mother used to feed them and talk to them. If birds were allowed to be the heirs of any property, my mother would have done that too, she had grown so friendly towards them.

 I had no problem with pigeons which had become her pets,until...

These pigeons had built their nest right outside my kitchen. They created  all sorts of noises even while my mother wasn’t around at all hours of the day. Right from mating, fighting & loving to cheating , they did it all in front of my eyes.  No, I wasn’t interested in their life but was simply curious to know why do they have to make noise all the time.

I wasn’t able to write, read or sleep. My ears had become so used to their noise that at night my ears imagined that noise while they actually slept.  My life had gone topsy-turvy. I had dark circles all over my face.

  After 6 long months and  their 2 generations (I guess), I decided to put an end to this mess.

On a Sunday, I woke up early in the morning and emptied a brand new PONDS POWDER in their nest, of course in their absence. I wouldn't say this trick worked, but it was effective to some extent. 
Two out of the four pigeons migrated to some other place. But the other two enjoyed in their nest as if they were in a powdery-bath tub. As I kept looking at them when they fluttered their wings in the powder filled nest and all the powder particles rose up into the air to seek homage on my face.
Failed attempt!

In my 2^nd attempt I  poured the  bowl of water which I had used  for painting on the pigeons. Ohh!! They had become red and yellow.. Now this time I succeeded in getting rid of one of the two pigeons.  Just one left! I knew this one was the strongest, smartest and the most rigid one. I had to think indicatively.

In my third attempt I somehow managed to occupy my mother with activities that would benefit her, which included devotional trips at nearby places, SPA’s and movies (Morning shows-are-cheap-trick worked).  After four hungry days , the pigeon finally left for some other place. I had thought the pigeon would never come back and my misery had ended.

However, after a peaceful week, one fine morning, I heard that same annoying sound. I got up from my bed to trace the source of the  sound and reached in my bedroom's balcony. It was the same pigeon. It looked me in the eye again. Sometimes you know something bad is going to happen and this one was one of those classic moments for me.

I had no time to think about what could happen. I had to hurry to office. I quickly took a bath and was all set to go when I opened my bag to check if I was carrying my Cellphone charger. (My bag is so messy that a thief would get tired and not end up stealing anything eventually.) I entered my room’s balcony and emptied all its contents on the railing to find the charger. It was within seconds of finding the charger when the happiness hadn't even sunk in, when the same pigeon flew away right next to me taking away my railway pass.

How do I know it was the same pigeon? It was red and yellow.

On other days I never ever found TC’s at the station but on this day when everything was going wrong I was caught by the TC. No surprises, I had to pay Rs 650 as fine, go back to the ticket counter stand in the line and buy a new ticket. Yes, I was late. I was late for the presentation. The last thing I wanted to see were my ideas being presented by my rival. Moral of the story-We won the the client but the brand was no more mine.

But I couldn’t blame my boss or the rival or the TC or the slow moving train or Mumbai traffic.
What do I tell my boss? A pigeon is responsible for the delay?  No he wasn’t in the mood to listen to any excuses either. (Afterall, it was he who had come up with the tag line for ‘Sprint DEO’ – ‘No more excuses’.)  

How difficult is it to sustain a smile on your face in undesired situations, is something I learned that day. 

The pantry of my office was located on the terrace and had a roof to avoid any trespassing by birds. I didn’t even feel like eating anything .So, I simply ordered curd. While I was busy recollecting the entire days mess, I saw the same pigeon sitting on my terrace railing. It wasn’t facing me but I caught him looking at me. 

Then I just realized that I’m hallucinating. There isn’t any pigeon in front of me. I have merged my thoughts into reality. Just when I was convinced about the pigeons presence being an illusion , the pigeon moved side- ways and looked at me right in the eye again. I couldn’t believe a pigeon stalking me. But what happened next is something that I still don’t believe. This pigeon with yellow and red spots flew right on my table and dipped his beak in my curd.

I screamt and moved back in such a way that I fell off the chair, pushing the person walking next to me in such that his plate landed exactly on my head. While this happened everything had changed ; people’s views about me, my developments in a prospective relationship and the brand of course. But one thing didn’t change the pigeon was standing still on the table looking at all the people staring at me in disgust.

More than being embarrassed I was angry and helpless.
I decided to leave office early that day. I was on my way to the station and stuck in traffic right next to a pigeon feeding place. I was intently looking at all the pigeons.  A thought came into my mind: what if the pigeon is still following me and has made friends with all the pigeons in this country and is planning an attack on me sometime soon. Just when all these thoughts were erupting in my head, a pigeon flew in my direction. It reminded me of the morning incident , followed by paranoia which made me scream and  throw the change in my hand on the pigeons.

What happened next is no less than a scar.

They've all got it all wrong

All of us have been told stories in our childhood and we loved it. Inducing sleep wasn’t the sole purpose of these stories. The little secret being, we all did fall asleep in the middle of the story  but we all took that story ahead  and created fantastic screenplays in our dreams. With the changing times, the art of storytelling has been modified into different elements , books being one of the oldest and television /films being the latest. 

I’m not getting into, the ‘Do films and television have a positive/negative influence on audiences’ zone.  I’d say, every creation should fulfill its purpose. Not fulfilling the purpose of your creation doesn’t necessarily always end up with misuse. It is also wasting an opportunity you are given. Some people would think of it as a misuse if it had a negative influence on the audiences.  However, what would you say  when a particular show/film  comes up with something absolutely rubbish , in other words wastes its opportunity /doesn’t  fulfill its purpose and people still watch it religiously? Is the show fooling people or the people want to be fooled? 

If you ask channel heads or production houses, they will always say, “people watch this nonsense, they like it, so why stop making it?”. So does the audience really like watching absolute rubbish?

When I see people dancing to the tunes of ‘Laila teri le legi tu likh ke lele’ during an auspicious Indian festival and people (photographers, news channels) propagating it as something Indian ,  I think the situation has gone far worse in terms of what to tell whom . It is more like, 'What all to tell who all’, the latter being more like ‘who all’ (lowers the voice and narrows the worry lines). 

But I most definitely want to tell the Indian Television Industry that ‘They’ve all got it, all wrong’. I have watched most of the Indian television shows since childhood and have been an ardent fan of this medium. When multiplexes and malls hadn’t found their way, back then in the 80’s and 90’s ,Television was such an integral part of our lives. Let me point out that people watched television then because they loved the content and not because watching films in theatres was inaccessible or unaffordable.  The shows then, were content oriented. 

Sensible dialogues, acceptable screenplay , appropriate dramatic direction and good actors left audiences wanting more.  Eminent actors and directors were a part of the television industry then. To name a few Sanjay Leela Bhansali, Naseeruddin Shah, Pankaj Kapoor  and many more  were responsible for what television was then. 

In the late 70’s and early 80’s the entire country witnessed all the entertainment on one channel, ‘DD channel’. Shows like, Byomkesh Bakshi, Karamchand, Mungerilal Ke Haseen Sapne, Buniyaad, Wagle Ki Duniya, Nukkad, Jasoos Vijay,Kahan Gaye Who Log, Malgudi Days, Jungle Book had successfully  managed to  take people away from all their daily tensions to a world of exciting stories.  Ask your parents and they will definitely tell you that they miss them.

In the 90’s, as a child I remember watching sitcoms like Hum Paanch, Jabaan Sambhalke, Ghar Jamai, Shrimaan Shrimati, Office Office, Dekh Bhai Dekh, Yes Boss, Tu Tu Main Main  to name a few. 

Serious shows like Shanti, Saans, Alpviram, and Kora Kaagaz too had some excellent performances and not to forget a brilliant storyline.

Why don’t we get to see such shows today?

The channels and PH’s, they should know that when there is parity in the market the customer prefers the worse over worst and that does not make the worse, best. The truth remains the same. All the T.V shows are horrible /unbearable and people choose to watch shows that are comparatively less horrible, but that does not take away the fact that the show  with the highest TRP is HORRIBLE.

The entire family drama and saas bahu saga had gathered impetus with the legendaries  produced by Balaji Telefilms;Kyunki Saans Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi and Kahaani Ghar Ghar Ki. Not that this genre didn’t exist before, but  the launch of these 2 shows around the same time at a prime-time slot forced  everybody to watch it, as other shows were way too unbearable, I guess. The industry mistook this no-other-option theory as the only-correct-option-theory. As a result of which even after a decade, family dramas and saas-bahu sagas top the TRP chart.  No, not because they are good but simply because every single channel and production house came up with the same stuff. So, the audiences’ selected the less horrible.

In 2009, Yash Raj films’ much discussed television stint with 5 new shows turned out to be a failed stunt. They did raise some eyebrows but all of them were in the direction of universal questions; ‘What’ and ‘Why’. The technical aspects of these shows; cinematography, editing etc was too good for television standards but with content-less storyline it had to meet the fate it eventually did.

 In the early 2000’s shows like Love Story, Jassi Jaisi Koi Nahi, Remix, Happy Go Lucky, Special Squad, Sanjivani , Saara Aakash  had started off very well. They were totally content driven but later they too lost track. However, I’d say these shows were better.

There was one show which not only matched the standards of old school but raised them to another level, yes I’m talking about Sarabhai v/s Sarabhai. It was the best show on Indian Television, so far.

What makes all the old shows and Sarabhai v/s Sarabhai stand out are its characters.  Your story moves ahead only when a character reacts in a particular way. Now, just because every character in these memorable shows had a finely detailed characteristic sketch that was way too different than the other characters, the show always had exciting storylines.

The shows rocking TRP charts today have more or less the same storyline which is highly unrealistic. Firstly, every show has a huge family which resides in a mansion(understatement). For some unknown reasons, the female characters are always dressed up in flashy outfits which 3kg makeup(not exaggerating). Another striking observation;no one seems to be employed. Yes, all the characters are at home all the time. The audience has to assume that they have a family business and every member of the family is a businessman, but no one goes to work.

Marathi T.V has had some awesome shows like ‘Abhaalmaya’ , ‘Shriyut Gangadhar Tipre’ and ‘Avantika’ . The situation now is the same in Marathi T.V industry as well, infact it is far worse. Daily soaps rock the charts here, as well. However once in a while they do come up with good shows like, ‘Eka Lagnachi Dusri Goshta’. They’ve basically started aping Hindi T.V industry.


Ohh, how can I forget the music channels. Gone are those days when we had talented VJ's like Cyrus Broacha, Malaika Arora etc. Who is the last nice VJ you remember? In fact do they have VJ's today? No, they don't. How will they? When music channels have come up with daily soap type shows , where do you expect VJ's to show up? And the reason is- 'Back then , songs weren't available online . Now that today everyone has access to music online who will watch music shows? Well, well..well, what about COKE STUDIO? If you come up with a nice music shows instead of unbearable reality shows and daily soaps, music lovers will watch your channel. No one, ever wanted to see MTV and Channel V in the GEC list.

However,the new trend   which most definitely needs a reality check  is ‘reality television’. What the hell are they doing?  Roadies was fine till season 4, after that it was a podium for fame hungry struggling actors who screamed, fought, abused and did a lot of unmentionable things just for the heck of appearing on T.V.. Later shows like, Bigg Boss, Is Jungle se Mujhe bachao etc  served as  a podium for established failed actors who again screamt, fought, abused and did a lot of other unmentionable things, for the sake of creating more drama in the name of TRP’s. This is how it works, they ask audiences to vote which is never  taken into consideration while deciding the winner of the show. Infact,the one who creates more drama is the one who isn’t eliminated. So, all the contestants fake it. How is it reality television then?

Reality Talent shows like Indian Idol, DID opened doors to other talent reality shows on the same lines of dancing and singing.Though the winner of these shows is based on audience votes, every show has 3 judges.What is the significance of these judges would be an explorative thesis topic.by the way, there is also a set pattern for judges. One judge will be someone who has some knowledge of the talent(singing/dancing), the second one should have no knowledge of the talent and should make a fool of oneself for the sake of creating unwanted drama and the 3^rd one should not be a fluent hindi speaker. Channels have come up with the junior version of the several shows, for children, in the name of ‘Junior ABC/XYZ’. 

What  surprises me , are the parents who bring their little children to participate in these reality shows.  Every single child, too wants to appear on T.V.  I wonder when these children go to school. We have so many so called child celebrities, that I wouldn’t be surprised ,if just  like other shows , one day there is a  'BIGG BOSS JUNIOR'. Shows like these, accelerate the ‘Extinction of Innocence’ process.

Not to forget  the forced comedy shows. ‘Tarak Mehta ka ulta Chasma’ had started off with a bang  but later it too lost its track. ‘Comedy nights with kapil’ has the highest TRP today in the non fiction category and a lot of people seem to like it, but again it is also forced comedy. Some Punches are really good but on a whole, no. It is a show which invites people on stage who are classified as not normal  by the self proclaimed  behaviour setters of society and made fun of based on their physicality. Now, obviously the channel pays them to make fool of themselves. But how evil is it to propagate any message around physicality. And if the audiences are liking any such show that demeans people then we seriously need to get a reality check. Moreover,  we all know how witty and talented #KapilSharma is. He is capable of doing much better. So, are we lacking at funny content too, to finally take aid at poking fun at FAT, BALD, BLACK, SHORT, GAY  people?

In the comedy genre no one has come near Marathi shows like, ‘Fu Bai Fu’ and ‘Comedy express’. If there can be content here why not on Hindi television?

Let us look at it this way,  most Masala movies aren’t working these days .The audiences are getting more inclined towards meaningful cinema. Hence, we cannnot blame the audience. Because, if  there has been such a massive shift in cinema viewership then the same is definitely possible in the television industry.  With the availability of You Tube and other  online production companies , the urban/educated audience  is no more watching  any of the T.V  shows.

If it continues this way,soon, someday even the rural/uneducated audience because of whom the shows bask in glory of good TRP’s will shift their focus, too.  When this audience too will shift to online forces , television will be extinct.

The viewer has the capability to change the entire industry dynamics. So, be very careful as to what you watch .

Just like our initial films inspired by Hollywood flicks,  which eventually triggered some original concepts and  raised the standard of Indian film industry, I do have some hope from ‘24’ (a new television series  going on air in 4th oct.2013), even if it is a Hollywood show adaptation. 

The reason why Hollywood shows are good is because they already know how many episodes they are going to make. They go on air with a set content. 

In India the content is stretched and modified after the show goes on air. Sarabhai v/s Sarabhai was episodic and was a weekly show, which is why they had  time to think, revise and  pen  down the storyline of each episode. If we come up with several shows like these either weekly or with a specific number of episodes and a set pattern, I’m sure the Indian Television  will get their audience back , like never before.

It is only when we demand content we will get one.  If there can be a change in cinema , there definitely can be one in television.  So, choose what you watch.

Tiffin Box

I’m an extremist, is what I’ve discovered after  travelling down the memory lane today and finding one peculiar incident which I had not thought of anytime after its occurrence . On being asked any questions about me, my mother has always said that I was a very naughty child.  However I really am not. Trust me, I never bullied anyone or otherwise. I always wanted to do something and ended up doing something else ,now that isn’t naughty. I still do not know moderate and which is why I end up doing something unplanned.

As a child, I had a lot of food tantrums. I did not eat any vegetable. All I wanted was fish. Owing to which I was very thin. I was almost convinced by my brother that I was an anorexic and was going to die soon. School recess hence was something that I never enjoyed because I never liked most of the food which my mom used to pack. I always left it half eaten. Every day in the evening my mom used to yell at me emptying the half-empty tiffin into the dust bin.

One fine day on my way to school, I, along with a few friends tricked my nanny with the view of troubling her and ran into an unusual lane. Seeing the nanny run behind us everybody increased their speed to extract more fun until I discovered none of my friends or my nanny behind me and saw myself standing in a strange lane. I did not panic.

I remembered the most irritating phase of my life- when I’d go out with my mother to meet our long lost relatives locating whom was a task my mother mastered at. FYI My mother used to introduce them to me saying, “Remember, we’d met XYZ  at ABC place”. Initially I used to produce a question mark expression which was later modified into a fake shrug/smile.

I, kind of having unofficially assisted my mother at location hunting, very well knew the drill.  I, a 7 year old could just make out who would help me out with the correct directions to my school and who wouldn’t. I felt very independent as I made my way towards my school. I was a minute away from school at the cross road, when the vehicles from the left side were released and  the crossing signal turned red; I was forced to halt. Cursing the traffic signal I looked at the left side.

 As the vehicles passed by I saw an old woman sitting on the opposite footpath all by herself. Something within me prompted me to go and see that woman. Maybe , it was my curiosity backed by her image being disturbed by the passing vehicles. May be I wanted to see her face. May be....

 As the signal turned green and all the vehicles stopped I ran to see the old woman.

 Her skin was containing over a million wrinkles ; it was the first thing I noticed in her. She reminded me of those anorexic faces my brother scared me away with. Within a fraction of a second I thought of her to be an anorexic and the immediate word that I associated with anorexic- food;prompted me to open my tiffin box.

 I was devastated to see what I saw then….. PRAWNS RICE!  After 3 months of the holy period and back to back Gods and their reincarnations’ birthday celebrations that doomed my fish craving, my mother had given my favourite delicacy.

Hear the deaf world

What if  you are dispatched into a country where people speak a language you have no clue of and vice-verse. You wouldn't be able to listen to the happenings around you, and you would just have to guess what was going around?  You'd see someone talking to you but you wouldn’t know what he/she is talking? You would’ve liked or disliked something but you could not be able to express it in words?

This is exactly what the deaf and dumb go through. They aren't disabled but sent to a place different than theirs. They too can communicate with people who speak their language;the sign language.
What would you expect from the people of a different country is exactly what the deaf and dumb expect from us; communication, understanding,opportunity and equality.

Ruma Roka's inspiring words.

No, we aren’t sympathizing on them, no, not at all.

This article is about why they are better at certain things than anyone else. Let us focus on their ability.

A deaf person doesn’t get anything easily ever because of which they value every single thing which becomes a part of their life. They’re loyal.

They put in a lot of thought before deciding on doing/wanting something, because they know that they have to put in a lot of efforts to achieve it. They’re organized and focused.

They know how to get what they want and a struggle to achieve the same is what makes them more hardworking than any normal person.  

They should be every company's dream employees. They’re loyal, organized, focused and hardworking souls. Still, in India they’re considered special, specially challenged to an extent where they’re not even considered for any job openings. Most deaf and dumb people in India are doing clerical jobs or any other documenting work.

I’m not saying any work is demeaning but if an efficient person is asked to be a peon, that is ridiculous.A lot of things are changing in India but not at the required pace. Due to the Persons With Disabilities act (PWD), deaf and dumb are now working in government sectors but they are very few people.

In India there are nearly 10-15 million deaf people. Do you think all of them are working? NO!
Instead of whining about how the society fails let us explore what we could do to bring about a change.

Beginning with....

How many of us know to speak the ISL (Indian sign language)?

If you aren’t an NGO person or have a deaf person in your family, I bet most of you won’t know the sign language. Everybody wants to learn French, Japanese ,Spanish, German. Would speaking in these languages to people who already know them, get a smile that you would never forget in your whole life?  If you can use you tube to see the latest SCAM, I’m sure you could invest some time in learning this wonderful language which says everything withoutreally saying anything.

Note, they don’t want you to make them feel special. Remember, the moment you do that, you discriminate. To make them feel a part of the society do not sympathize, but be normal and for that you need to be able to communicate with them.

One such person who is making a difference is Ms. Ruma Roka.  I saw a video of hers and was inspired to write this piece. She is the founder of the Noida Deaf society.The mission of the Noida Deaf Society is to mainstream the deaf people into the community through specialized vocational programmes leading to gainful employment. After their specific course completion the organization also recruits the students in renowned companies.

 Ms Ruma Roka has struggled to prove that the disabled are more able than anyone else.

With over 625 students being recruited,NDS inspires us to contribute in some way or the other and make a little difference. So how many of you have made up your mind to learn ISL?

Franklin Templeton Investments partnered the TEDxGateway Mumbai in December 2012.Ruma Roka at TED

"I don't really exist"

Tring Tring the phone rang. I hoped it to be Ritika and it was her to my delight.

“If I ever become famous and if anyone from my future generations would ever decide to pen down our family history  apart from a lot of chaotic confusions ,it would contain 7 world wars and if someone decides to do a thesis of the same they would discover a very important facet i.e the source of genes for weak mathematics was me.”

“Shamika, it all lies in your head. I have recently read somewhere- whatever you tell your mind you become that. There are so many people who aren’t good at Maths, you aren’t the first one”

“ But Ritika, I’m the first one in my entire family and extended family. They are all good at Maths, Mom got me checked when I was 7.”

“Yes, but it was to know your mental state and not for tracing your DNA. Plus, the doctor had told her very clearly that you are normal. Your problem is that you refuse to concentrate.”

“That isn’t true, ofcourse I try to but just when I begin to try to understand the shapes of all those numbers get the hell out me. '0' is my favourite number, because it is the only number that is a complete shape, all other numbers are incomplete shapes. The moment those numbers come before my eyes I spontaneously begin thinking of ways to reshape it and just when I start imagining nicer shapes, I realize that the solution to the problem is already explained.”

“By concentration , I mean this. You focus in the wrong areas.”

“I don’t deliberately do that, it just happens. I cannot explain you. According to you Maths is the most logical subject, but I think the other way round.  Who decided to name numbers?  Why do we stretch only 4 fingers to show 4? And could anyone tell me why all the scientists known to us were all good at maths…. Why wasn’t there anyone who wasn’t good at Math?”

“Scientists who were uninterested in math were mostly called Artists. Anyway,  why do you make such a deal out of Maths every time? You know you are intelligent, you top in History every year  and you are not bad in other subjects?”

“Yes, but our school mark sheet has a column for Math Marks?  Until that column disappears, it is normal to worry.”

“Okay, Okay, what is it that you are studying now? How much is left?”

“Firstly, I don’t study Maths … I learn it and secondly ask me how much is done….because I forget what I studied 10 mins ago after every 10 mins. I’m left with everything I guess! WoW… tomorrow is Maths paper”

“Relax Shamika, you still have one night to go.”

“That is exactly the problem. Like every year Mom had taken a leave today for my Maths paper.”

“hahahaha… 7^th world war in 7^th grade, ahhahaha”

“Shamikaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.”

“Ritika,I will have to hang the phone now, I think she is done with pleasing all the Gods… now she’ll displease me. I’ll call you later. Byee”

“Bye!”

I ran into the kitchen, checked on my mother’s gestures to know her mood when she said, “God, be with my child, let only those questions whose answers are known to Shamika  be asked in the paper.”

I told myself in my mind, “If god was with me, there would never be Maths.”

My mom stared at me as if she was trying to read my mind.

I grabbed hold of the bananas lying in the fruit basket and said, “Do you think GOD will listen to a woman who hits her child so brutally.”

My mom looked me in the eye. Her sight penetrated right through such that all her thoughts passed like cosmic rays into my brain and screamt  saying ,”My hands are swollen, I’ve just got an  injection, my headache refuses to lessen such that I had to give up on you like every time and you are eating bananas.”

After a 6.5 second short stare she said, “Any woman will, if her 12 year old child tells her- 2x3 is 5 a day before the Maths paper.  You have told yourself that you aren’t good at Maths and have accepted it but I haven’t.”

I was about to bite the banana however I lost all hopes in life, no , not in me but my mother and I returned to my room. I decided to demonstrate the- “you are what you tell your mind” theory. I told my mind that I’m Pythagoras. I imagined a Triangle and just when  was about to figure out the triplet 2-3-5, I heard something ringing, however I tried to focus on the triplets.... now the sound was even stronger. I suddenly opened my eyes, just to check if it was my landline. Although my landline wasn’t ringing  I  decided to  pick up the phone. When I placed the receiver at my ear , TRING TRING  the phone rang…..

I was stumped; how come there was a TRING TRING sound being heard when I hadn’t dialed anyone’s number? So I kept the receiver down and again placed it near my ear… The TRING TRING sound was still being heard. This time I didn’t keep the phone down. I wanted to know who was on the other line and how come the phone had dialed a number on its own. I thought, maybe, this is how the phone ends up calling random people on its own and mom shouts at me for the never decreasing bills.  It was an unusually long dial tone. 

Then, it seems the receptionist picked the phone and instead of asking me , “Whom can I connect you to?” She said, “Ms Shamika  you are on hold for the next 7 seconds, 5…4…3…2..1…”

Then came a heavenly voice, “Shamika, first let me tell you that out of the vast population out there we only select 1 person in every one hundred years to communicate with, that too ,only when we find something really logical in their worry. Congratulations, you are the chosen one in the past 100 years.”

I was on top of the world, I didn’t care who they were because I had never felt so happy about not knowing anything ever before.  

I said,"Who are you and how am I talking to you without dialing your number?”

“I’m talking to you because you remembered me.”

“Ohh my GOD… You are GOD? My mom shall go mad at me if she comes to know that you spoke to me and not her, wait I’ll call her.”

“Ohh common, I’m not GOD but we function more or less like him. If I was, I would come in your dream. Well we do not have access to dreams because we do not have a face, in your words, what you rightly pointed at – THE SHAPE.  By the way,I’m INFINITY.”

“What INFINITY?”

“I’m the Number GOD.”

“What , so you should know that I hate you all…

He cut my sentence and said, “That is exactly why I’m talking to you.  See, I did tell you that we more or less function like GOD’s . Just as God sometimes talks to Atheists, people who do not believe in him; we too talk to people who don’t believe in us.”

“But I’m not the only one who hates you.”

“You’re right, but you are a loyal unbeliever. Others sometimes like us when they score well in Maths, however you have hated us even after you’ve scored well; which was in Grade 3 – Sem 3 and Grade 5 –Sem 2, the time when you’re mother had got a migraine attack and was hospitalized.”

“What else do you expect? She was on leave for 5 days and I had said, 10x1 is 0.”

“Yes, so coming to the point, we believe a loyal unbeliever could be a remarkable believer. However, no bread is free. We believe in business.”

“Yeah I know, numbers and business go hand in hand. Tell me what you want?”

Infinity cleared his throat and said, “Just like 0 , we want you to reshape the rest of the numbers. Remember, you had said, the moment these numbers appear before you, you think of how badly they’re shaped and fail to understand the solution of the problem. The entire digit questioning of yours –Why do we stretch only 4 fingers to show 4?  So we want you to design us in a way that you could understand.

Give us any shape, any design,any color.”

“Why don’t you ask the one who designed 0, my favourite number.”

“Actually, no one knows who designed us. We don’t know our womb”

“Awwww, I’m so sorry !!”

“Never mind”

“Infinity, are you serious? Because I’m on the job…. Give me a pen and a paper, I have thought of excellent shapes for you.”

“Shamika, no , we don’t need a paper, Just like the telephone we work through telepathy. Telepathy means reading one’s mind. So, as far as you can imagine those shapes, we can see them.”

“Cool Infinity, are you ready? So note down  ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE, SIX , SEVEN, EIGHT, NINE”

“Shamika, you are a genius….. You have given us not only eyes and other features but  different colored clothes as well. Thank You so much.”

“Actually, I should be thanking you…. WOW, now it would be much easier for me to understand Maths. I can now figure out everything I studied…. Suddenly it is all getting organized in my head. Everything is rising from the ashes, hahhaa. I think tomorrow’s paper is going to be really good.”

“Yeah, it will. All the best.”

“That reminds me to ask you, have you called me or has my phone called you? If the bill is too much…aaaa ..Are you from Maharashtra ? If you are from some other state, difficult times lie in the next month for me. Are you even from my country? How much would a call charge in the universe? The bill would be my last will…

“Hahahahhaha, check your next months bill, you’ll come to know.”

“By the way, I forgot to design you, Infinity?’’

“Shamika, I don’t really exist, I'm Infinity.”

Those were the last words I heard. That day onward, no, I never topped in Maths, but my Mom never had to hit me a day prior to my Maths exams. I'd like to believe, it wasn't just an imagination.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

I saw, I learnt

I don't know if I'm born with defects as I perceive it,which could be perceived as a god gift by an optimist. I guess, the set up of our mind is the result of a trial and error method (learning and deleting) that happens in our sub conscious mind. Whatever processes in our sub conscious is what we are totally unaware of and that is exactly what changes your life. Incidences that change us, our thoughts and the vision of looking at life are what we see and we learn from.This data enters your sub conscious mind first, because you hadn't planned learning it and after sometime when you ponder over the magnitude of its effect on you, you become completely conscious of what you see and then you learn.

In this post I shall describe what I saw and I learnt.

When I was 11,I had participated in a prayer dance performance of my school annual day. We had to shake our legs to the tunes of 'Pyaasa hiran jaise'. The protagonist according to the lyrics of the song was a deer, hence, it was mandatory to have a deer in the song. The teachers incharge of the prayer dance said,"the girl who chooses to be the deer gets to be in the centre and she'll be the lead".None of the girls expressed a desire to be the deer. However, I did. I was so happy throughout all the practice sessions being in the centre. All other girls used to envy me for having raised my hand first before anyone else. I was always told by the teachers that I'd be noticed before anyone else, so my expressions and steps had to be perfect. I was all happy until an hour before the performance when my teachers got the costume and I discovered that I had to wear a deer-mask. I was so devastated on realizing that the teachers have fooled me.

"My face wouldn't be seen, how will people come to know that I was the deer, I was dancing beautifully, I was in the centre?". I refused to perform. My teachers called my mother and pleaded her to make me understand. Ideally even my mother should have been angry with the teachers for having fooled her daughter.

However, my mother did not say a word to them.Instead she told me,"Animals are the most beautiful creatures made by God. No one ever gets a chance to be an animal. Look around, everybody is wearing outfits that you will get a chance to wear ahead in your life. No one is as lucky as you, you get to be an animal. You are the lucky one. Don't you want to make the maximum use of this opportunity. Do you want to follow the crowd or do you want to be different?"

I was blown by what my mother had said. Suddenly I felt all good about my outfit, I felt different. I could see people looking at me through those mask holes where my eyes rested. That was the happiest moment of my life.

I saw and I learnt that it is only the different that is noticed and celebrated and  it is only the one who discovers good in the bad who is different.

From that day on, I have always done everything differently and somehow I have always stood out without even trying to be.

According to others I was a fool to be happy in the deer outfit. I learnt, I don't have to care a damn as to what others think or say if I am convinced about my decisions. Since I don't care a damn about what others think, I'm responsible for whatever happens with my life and I should blame no one but myself for my failures and success.

I am sharing what 'I Saw and I Learnt' at BlogAdda.com in association with DoRight.in.

When you say nothing at all

If my day hadn’t begun with a tea-sipping hiss-hiss sound, a 1950’s C grade song of a F grade movie, a wet floor, tremendous sound of utensils  and finally overhearing world’s most ridiculous gossips , I wouldn’t believe I am alive. No, I’m not talking about my wife. I’m a 33 year old  accountant  and I’m talking about  my 33 year old roommate, Iris. It's a HE.  Do not ponder over his name as there are a lot of other unusual things that deserve more attention.  Unlike most Parsi families, Iris’ family is a huge one. It comprises of 67 people.  

They are much respected in the Parsi community. They had to be, I mean, one of their ancestors must have come to the rescue of the decreasing population. Actually, I owe a lot to that ancestor. If it wasn’t for him , I would have never met Iris and got a chance to attend their wonderful weddings and relish the awesome food. 

Iris was so attractive. He was a 5.3 feet 70 kg human, with most weight concentrated in his stomach and cheek region. Every child is fascinated by him. He would stand out in any crowd, literally. He hated crowded places, which was one of the reasons as to why he didn’t travel by local transport owing to which he was jobless since 3 years. He however used to manage money from somewhere to pay the house rent and survive.  I have never seen him sitting idle though, he was much busier than a working man.

Meet Iris.

He used to get up at 7.30am sharp. He would warm the water in the microwave , transfer it to his cup , insert a tea bag into it and see every particle dissolving into the water very carefully  and then begun hissing i.e sipping.  The hissing sound was so loud that my day,since 3 years commenced from this sound.  I would try to cover my ears with pillows when he would sing ,

“Dil se nikle paathar , daane …kahaan chale gaye koi na jaane.
 Jo dhund laye unhe wohi  insaan kehlaayeeeeee…….ee..ee…
Chuhe unhe dhundkaar laaye  yeh koi na mane isliye
unjaise kaale kaale hain yeh rahein ”….  

I never intended learning these lyrics. I came to know that I’d learn’t it when I unknowingly heard a similar tune in my office and began singing this song.

After listening Iris sing this song, I used to forcibly get up only to feel the wet floor. Iris seldom came out of the bathroom and soaked his legs by walking around in house. Iris always used to enter the kitchen with the view of cooking and never end up doing anything apart from making a lot of noise. Then he used to call up someone everyday and gossip about different issues like, “I think the cat in my building is a bisexual”.

I would think I have woken up to discover that I've died if I didn't encounter this daily dose. I had become so used to it.

In this post I’m describing that one day when I’d thought I was dead.

It was the 2^nd of March, I had by now become conditional to the time of this hissing sound.  I woke up sharp at 7.53 but there was no hissing sound being heard. I rubbed my ears for a minute but even the god-forsaken song wasn’t being heard. I rested my foot on the floor to get up and the floor too wasn’t wet.  I didn’t take a second to think , Iris is dead.  To reach the hall we had to pass by the kitchen and what I saw in the kitchen skipped a heartbeat… YES, I saw an omelette. I rushed into the hall and what I saw next is noted down in history. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Iris was sitting on the dining table and eating the omelette instead of gossiping. Now, I thought, I was dead. I looked at my refection on the granite edge of our kitchen, it was very much looking like me.

Iris must have sensed my fidget that he turned around . He glared at me silently as I walked towards the dining table.  I had never had such a steady and a long eye contact with anyone ever to an extent that I didn’t realize as to when the stare converted into a ‘who will blink first’ type competition or so it seems.

After a few minutes I realized that Iris could go on the whole day but I have to reach office on time.

Breaking the silence, I said, “Iris, are you fine?’’

Iris simply smiled and nodded his head

I said, “I’m talking to you… hello… why were you staring at me?’’

Iris opened his mouth to say something , that raised my hopes of being in a normal atmosphere which shattered in the next few seconds when he shut his mouth immediately.

“Iris?’’

Not looking at me Iris said, “I was staring at you because you were staring at me.”

“Iris… look.. aa.. umm… are you fine? Look there’s nothing to worry about , you’ll get a job soon… if you need money or anything else, I’ll help you out.”

This time Iris smiled again and said nothing. 

Reaching the peak of my curiosity I said, “When you say nothing at all is when something goes terribly wrong.”

Iris smiled again. 

I said, “The last time you went silent was when later that evening, a drunk cop was trying to jump off our balcony, singing 'Maar Daala' song and you were clicking his  pictures.”

Iris finally broke his silence and said, “I wasn’t clicking pictures but taping him. You never get your facts straight.”

“If stating the facts wrongly is the only way to break your silence then why not?”

“Relax, I’m practicing for a very important transformation in my life and I’m not disclosing the details.”

"Cool, as far as we don't have an incident on the lines of the previous one, I'm fine".

Iris had finished eating the omelette by the end of our conversation. As I still stared at him he carried all the utensils to the basin and washed them on his own.  Without wasting anymore time I got ready to go to office. When I was tying the lace of my shoes, Iris was sitting in the same place since an hour. This was like those gentle winds which blow before the hurricane. 
I prayed to God to make everything alright by the end and left the house. 

Throughout my train journey, I thought,I had forgotten something . I kept checking my pockets and bag again and again to reassure if I am carrying everything. Yes, I was. On analyzing that  feeling furthermore, I realized, it wasn't the feeling of having forgotten something but missing something. I was missing the song and the gossip session more than anything else. I was restless all the while. I checked Iris' FB and twitter updates to know about what must have led to this sudden change. But there were no leads. All the while I waited to see the clock read 5.30 pm and when it did I ran out of the office the way I did when my mothers best friends wanted to kiss on my cheeks in childhood.

I rang the bell almost 25 times but Iris did not open the door. I thought this time a cop must have definitely jumped off along with Iris. I opened the door with my house keys only to see blood stains on the foor. It was as if someone stained in blood was dragged towards the bedroom. I pictured Iris' dead body with his green favourite Ganji and gathered guts to move towards the bedroom. It was then that I realized that someone was dragged out of the house and not the other way round.

More than being scared I was confused. I didn't know if Iris had dragged someone out or he was dragged by someone. I immediately called up the police. Their team reached in half an hour. They looked around at the mess in the house and said, "It seems a lot of struggle has happened here before whatever must happened".

I said, "Sir, the house is usually worse than this, today it is a bit better because my roomie was in a a..aa... aa.. vaguely better mood. Two bachelor's sir..."

"So where is your roomie?"

"I don't know Sir. His phone is switched off and he is usually home at this time, in fact I have come home much earlier today."

"Anyway, we've informed his family members as we need to know where he is, said the policeman.

While taking the blood samples into the test tube lookalike one of their officers said, "this doesn't look like blood... this is something else I think."

I spontaneously said, "Then it definitely is my roommates' ", only to realize later that I shouldn't have said that.

I hadn't finished cursing myself  when I received a call from a local landline number. I picked up the call and heard a shivering voice trying to say something that couldn't be heard due to network issues.

I stepped in the balcony for better receptivity and the shivering voice said,"Hello Subu, this is...

I said, "Iris.... Iris you are alive... where are you?"

Iris cut my sentence and said, "Subu I'm in a terrible uncalled for mess... I'm at Oshivara police station."

"Police station? huh? Did they catch you with the body?"

"What body? Just come here Subu"

On reaching the police station I saw a giant red stuffed potato on a wooden bench. As I went closer to that giant potato  I noticed some human features, beginning from body hair, face etc. At a one feet distance a chill went down my spine as I screamt, " IRIS....... Who did this to you?"

He looked up at me, dropped his jaw and said, "I".

I took a minute pause and thought of what I should think and said, "WHY?"

"The children's street festival event organizers needed a 'laughing buddha' and were ready to pay a good sum of Rs 10000 for 1 day which I go,t but I don't have them with me anymore."

On hearing that I could just think of one word, "Why?"

"When I was counting the money in a creepy lane and thief snatched all the money and ran away. The thief broke out into a housing society however none of the society members paid attention to catch him instead kept looking at me. The thief then got into a house and jumped off its window and I was hardly 15 steps away from him when ..."

 " A lady who got all scared of his fancy red appearance when he barged into her house ,jumped off her balcony and hurt herself and an old man." countered the policeman.

" For God's sake ,she stayed on the ground floor and just before she jumped off her balcony,a rat was nearing her foot. You can't blame me without confirming from the obese lady if it was the rat or me?", protested Iris

To know the correct chronology of the events I asked ,"So Iris was 15 steps away from the balcony and had just entered the obese lady's home when she and an old man jumped off together. Right?''

Iris said, "No, the obese lady jumped off and crumbled upon an old uncle who was passing by her window. Moreover, how can she be scared of me? She was double my size, she would've easily taken me."

I asked the policeman, "Well in that case, is the old man alive?"

"The old man is in his last moments according to the doctor and the lady is still unconscious. If the man dies off , I'm afraid, Mr. Iris will be charged of...."

Iris interrupted,"No! I did not kill anybody... I can't kill anybody.... I'm telling you it was the rat, please speak to the lady. I can't believe this has happened to me.... firstly my Rs.10000 are stolen, if it wasn't for this lady I too would've jumped off the window behind the thief and got my money. Gosh.. I hate rats!"

The lady came back to her senses at 2.00 am. The police reached her place in half an hour to ask her if it was Iris or the rat. Without thinking for a single moment she said,"That obese man clashed against my flower pot, which broke down and a rat which I was trying to trace since months ran out of the pot towards my leg ...and.. a.. a. I got scared and jumped off the window. I fainted when the rat too jumped off through a small hole in my balcony and slid through my curvaceous body to reach the ground."

In a couple of hours after this statement was noted an unexpected news came along. The policeman said, "The old uncle is out of danger... he is absolutely fine."

No sooner did the 'what a relief' feeling sank in than a strange voice with a familiar pitch  was heard saying, "Iris... ohh my son.... Iris...your alive.... I was so worried. What are you doing here."

"Mom it is a long story."

Iris whispered in my ear saying, "Why is she asking me if I'm alive?"

I said, "It is a long story."

His mom looked at him from head to toe and said, "You told me you are working as a nurse in a renowned hospital.... why are you in this get up then?"

Iris looked at me with- 'a shut your mouth now' type expression and said, "We had a fancy dress competition in our hospital today, I was the Laughing Buddha. Lets go home now, I'm very tired".

We reached home at around 5 am and decided to take a quick nap.

This time when I woke up at 7.53, yes it was a conditional action but this time I heard the hissing sound and the song ofcourse. It was double its original audibility, the floor was 2 times more wet than it usually used to be. Had to be, as Iris' mother too was present this morning.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

On a rainy day

On a rainy day, I heard the sound of rain drops but when I looked out of the window the sky was clear and sunny. I wondered for a while as to why did I think it is a rainy day when it is clearly not. I deviated my thoughts to ‘the big’ moment of my life. All those chairs were occupied, the mike was set , looking at their notebooks and pens I heard my name being announced , thinking of how far I have come I began walking up, towards the stage. I could see all producers and creative directors of the Indian television industry, anxiously waiting to hear me speak about how they did it all wrong.  

As I began transferring my thoughts into speech a strange noise overlapped my voice and  I realized that no one could hear a word of what I spoke (not even me). No one could hear the dialogues but just the quirky background music…. I didn’t know what was happening . The sound was so irritating that I immediately closed my eyes and covered my ears with my hands. With the sound becoming intense and louder with  every passing second, I forcefully opened my eyes only to realize that it was all a dream .  

Everything around me had changed apart from two details – The sound of torrential rains and the irritating sound that made my dream mute. I looked around and traced my phone flashing under my bedsheet  and then all the loose ends connected. I could see the mobile flashing but had to turn the whole bedsheet upside down to reach it. It read ‘ Messy calling…’ .

 Mishti A.K.A Messy is my best friend.
Best friends are the only successful choices that we don’t intend making and after a few years we rest our failures on the premise -‘Unplanned and natural is the only way to a happy life’, when deep within we know that the statement makes no sense. I met Mishti at a bar, to be precise outside the bar. How we met and became the best of friends is a tale. 

I picked up the phone and said, “It is 8.00 am and I would proceed with this telephonic conversation only if you are dying.”

There was a long pause which made me suspect some network problem, owing to which I entered my terrace and got all wet in the rain…. Yes, this time I not only saw it raining, but felt it.  I rushed back into my bedroom and couldn’t believe the words I heard- “I’m getting married in the next  5 hours”.

Everything went quiet around me until I heard my own voice say, “Are you pregnant ?”

 “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you anything Kriti. Please stop your imagination, get ready and come to pick me up in exact 20 minutes.  I’ll wait for you at the ‘Mewadwala's ice-cream car', I’ll tell you everything then.”

“If you are getting married at 1pm then why did you call me at 8am? Can’t we leave by 12?”

“NO, there are a lot of things to do ...''

“Please define those ‘lot –of-things’ and be precise”

“I’m getting married and I can’t be more precise…. Meet me in an hour . Bye!”

Messy had cut the phone but I kept thinking about ‘the lot of things’ when my phone rang again. This time it was a message from Messy, it read –‘Stop thinking. You have 20 minutes to get ready”.

The last thing on my mind was to step out in this rain. Ohh How I hated rains.

I hurried with every single activity.I did everything else apart from bathing and breakfast.  I opened my closet and a huge pile of clothes fell off all over me when I realized that I shouldn’t be the centre of attraction wearing jeans and some silly top that read ‘I’m what I’m’  as everyone else will be wearing a sari or Patiala. I quickly selected my flashy red Patiala wore the matching jewellery , put on some basic make up  and left my place. When you need something the most you never find it, I couldn’t find an umbrella and I was running out of time. I stepped outside my house  and saw Asian Paints workers painting the passage wall. Their umbrellas were lying around in the passage . I walked very confidently and picked up one of their umbrellas. My day had begun with stealing a painter’s umbrella and I prayed to God  to not have Mishti make me dance around the city in this outfit. For a second I had an image of a lady wearing flashy red clothes moving around the city with an asian paints umbrella.

Life didn’t surprise me,it was raining cats and dogs and I couldn’t spot a single empty ‘Rickshaw’. After 15 minutes I finally found one.   As I was nearing the Mewaadwala, I saw the image of a girl wearing  polka-dotted half pants and a black sleevless top covered with loose hair, becoming larger with every step towards her. Yes, it was Messy.

 “I thought you were getting married? So it was all a lie?”

“It was a half-lie?”

“So what was true and what was not of what you said.”

“I would have never got married if you had not come today?”

 “I'm in no mood of playing match the column. Who is the boy? Your dating pattern is damn confusing. The last person I knew of, was Vicky.”

“Not he…. I broke up with him 6 months ago”.

“But last month you’d told me that you went on a date with him.”

“Yes, we had just met as I was going through a bad phase with Gurmeet.”

“You dated Gurmeet , I’d thought it was your rule no. 5, No dating best friends’ ex?”

“Shamita is just a friend , you are my best friend.”

“When did you wipe off the prefix?”

“When I decided to date Gurmeet.”

“So you are getting married to Gurmeet ?”

“No…. Jairaj”.

“What , who is Jairaj?”

 “I met Jairaj 20 days ago and he is a great guy. I have never been in so much love ever before.”

“That is what you tell me up to the 20^th day of your every relationship and then begun abusing the boy.  ...This is the doom day the 20th day....Do you want to get married on the doom day. Think about it. History says,tomorrow you might not want to.”

“He is a Gujju Businessman.”

“Okay then…. Right Catch”.

"I told Shesta about it 10 days ago. She asked me to mail our horoscopes to her.  I mailed it to her the next day. A week ago she replied saying, he is going to get married on the 1st of this month, but I won't…..  So if it is not me he will be getting married to someone else. I even spied on him for 2 days, he doesn't even look at any other girl. Hence, to avoid any mishap I've decided to get married to him today. I shall inform everyone after the marriage.”

"Messy so you are actually trying to prove Shesta wrong? Is it? If she is proven wrong by her most dedicated disciple ideally that dedicated disciple should not be consulting her again?"

"I don't know."

Stumped at her stupidity I said, “Ohh please stop following that psycho horoscope lady, she has done no good to your life. She told you to leave your dream job…”

“And at my next job , no matter how demeaning it is ….I met Jairaj. Rickshawala yahan se right lena….”

“Where are we going?”

“To the temple. ”

“Have you informed Jairaj?”

“Yes. He didn't question me once…. He will be coming to the temple with his 3 friends.”

“Love is indeed blind”.

“See , I told you he loves me.”

“Can’t you just apply some common sense and think. If he loves you so much and if you know he isn’t cheating on you ….. how the hell will he get married to someone else?”

“That question is responsible for my de-glamorous look on my wedding day. I had 20 minutes but all I did was thinking….By the way, Shesta has told me to get married by 11.30 am”

Now that I was convinced about the marriage I thought of its requirements“We need a pandit and a  Lawyer.”

“Pandit will be there in the temple and thanks to 'Justdial' for the Lawyer, Mr. Dubey. I contacted him a week ago and told him to get all the paperwork done ,see I have got all my documents in here.”

“Great … so …aa…”

“Kriti, Jairaj will be buying the mangalsutra but we need to buy garlands and sindoor”.

“That is fine we’ll buy it on our way.’’

We got down at a flower shop on the way.  Messy opened the Asian paints Umbrellla as rains hadn’t stopped by then.  She told the lady, “ Please pack these 2 garlands fast.”

Looking at my flashy dress the lady looked at me , smiled and said, “Marriage?”

I  too smiled and said, “Yes.”

The lady looked at Messy and said, “Why are you selecting the garlands , let her select?’’

Messy was about to hit the lady with the same garlands when I quickly paid the money and dragged Messy away into the Ricksha.

We reached the temple at 10.45. Messy wanted to sign the papers first i.e before 11.30 and then intended performing other traditional Hindu rituals. Jairaj hadn’t come yet. While Messy was over the phone yelling at Jairaj and the lawyer for being late I took the initiative to arrange the requirements for the traditional style wedding.

“Kriti it’s 11.15 and Jairaj isn’t come yet …. Now his phone is also unavailable. I think he is getting married to someone else.”

“How do you expect the network to function normally in these sort of  rains and Jairaj to not meet any traffic or water logging .”

“I don’t care, I want the signatures done before 11.30”.

No sooner did she say that and we saw Jairaj with his 3 friends climbing the temple staircase fully drenched in rain. They hugged each other and pleasantries were exchanged between all of us. However, Mr. Dubey was nowhere in the scene.  Messy kept on calling him.

Listening to Mr. Dubey's -'I'm the best', dial tone, Messy said, “I think he has ditched us, I don’t know what to do now..."

Messy was about to cut the phone, irritated at the dial tone when  Dubeyji  answered the call. 

In complete agitation Messy said, “Dubeyji  only two minutes are left…. Where are you?’

“I’m climbing the staircase of the temple. I was late because of these heavy rains and …If only you'd not chosen a temple with such a time consuming staircase, I would have been there by now.’’

“ Dubeyji  I’ll ask my boyfriend to build a temple without a staircase for you but please run faster, I am standing with my best friend  and my boyfriend and  his 3 friends, as soon as you reach here first get the signatures done before asking anything else….. anything else. This is a very crucial moment , you will just have few seconds. So quickly get the papers ready while your climbing, my boyfriend will pay you double the original amount.”

Dubeyji climbing the staircase was like watching a potato being thrown towards the temple.  He ran along the staircase with a file in his hand. On reaching, Jairaj greeted him saying, "Hello, I'm Jairaj", however, Dubeyji didn't shake hands with him. He quickly glanced at everybody. 

He opened the file and asked everybody to sign on the papers. It all happened in such a hush-hush that everyone did as Dubeyji had said without uttering a word. Once the signatures were done, Messy breathed a sigh of relief, hugged Dubeji  and said , Thank You. .

 Dubeyji asked for water. She offered him her pink water bottle and then went on to hug Jairaj. Dubeyji wiped of his face with his wet handkerchief that made no difference to his face what so ever and said, “ I did it … on time”.

But what happened next was something that ignited fireworks in the rain.

Dubeyji congratulated Jairaj and then turned towards me and congratulated me as well.

Shaking my hands involuntarily with Dubeji I looked at Messy. I could guess looking at her face that she was definitely thinking what I was thinking.

With tears waiting to fall off her eyes she asked Dubeyji, “Did you think she is the bride and took her signatures in the respective column?’’

Dubeyji looked at everyone of us for around 1 second each and then looked at Messy , smiled and said, “YES, she is the bride”.

Messy screamt so loudly that the temple bell shivered . I didn’t know if I should have been consoling myself or Messy. I froze to death. Messy was rolling on the floor and crying.  Dubeyji didn’t understand anything. I so wished this to be  a dream.

Messy  quickly got up to call Shesta. She said, “Jairaj accidently got married to my best friend in front of my own eyes….. now what do I do?”

Shesta said, “Ask the lawyer.” 

Dubeyji said, “There’s nothing much to worry about…. This matter can be fixed in a few court rituals”.

I’d decided to write about this incident once the matter was resolved. Yes I’m  single now and according to the court I was never ever married to Jairaj.  The rainy day was the 20^th day of Messy’s relationship . For now Messy is back  with Vicky and she says, “He is a great guy. I have never been in so much love ever before.”

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda